Lost and Found
by Egypt
Summary: After a battle with the Hulk, Wolverine wakes to find that one of his team mates has come to his 'rescue'.


Author's Note: I was given the challenge of writing a Mary Sue scenario without making it Mary Sue. I think I did a pretty good job, but you be the judge.

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-MEN, just borrowing them. Please don't sue. You can't get blood from a turnip.

Lost and Found

By Egypt

The first thing he heard was the crackle of a fire, followed closely by the slow, steady thrum of a heartbeat. He focused on that heartbeat, using the rhythm as an anchor for his mind. He grasped it, clinging to it as if it were a rope that had been thrown down into the deep well in which he was trapped. He began to anticipate each beat, using each one to pull himself a little closer to consciousness.

It seemed to take forever, but finally he began to be aware of his body and surroundings again. He was lying on his back, the weight of what seemed like several blankets pressing down on him. It was a comforting feeling, but not nearly as comforting as the pocket of warmth to his right. As he became more aware he realized it was a person, more specifically a woman. He could feel her body pressed close to him, her right leg swung over his and her arm resting across his chest. It didn't take him long to realize that the heartbeat was coming from her.

He took in a deep breath, her scent filling his nose. She smelled familiar, but he couldn't quite place her. There were too many jumbled thoughts, too much going on in his head for him to focus. He couldn't find his own name, let alone the name of the woman who lay next to him. He was aware that he had lost his clothing, but it didn't seem to matter at the moment.

Her skin was warm, and the contact seemed to chase away the cold that had settled into him. He tried to move, tried to roll over and pull her closer to him, but his body wouldn't move. His eyes wouldn't even open, no matter how hard he tried. Finally, he gave up, focusing again on the slow steady rhythm of her heart. He listened, enjoying the feeling that such a simple sound gave him. It, combined with the warmth, told him he was still alive and that things could only get better from here. He breathed a sigh, listening as it echoed in the empty darkness around him. When it faded, the heart beat once again took over his senses. He focused on that sound, allowing it to follow him back into unconsciousness.

**

The next time he woke he had more strength, and his mind was much clearer. This time Logan opened his eyes, immediately taking in his surroundings in order to determine if there was a threat. He lay on the floor of a cabin wrapped in a wool blanket and a sleeping bag. To his left the fire roared in the fireplace, the form of a young woman setting cross legged before it. He silently sniffed at the air, taking in the scents that filled the room. He smelled the musty cabin, the crisp scent of the snow falling outside, the sulfur and smoke from the fire, and the woman who sat before it. He recognized her scent quickly, and realized it was the scent that he had smelled the first time he had woken up.

Question was, how did he get here? The last thing he remembered was being cold, exhausted and starving. He could still taste his own blood in his mouth, a memory of the extremes that one will go to in order to survive. After this one, Fury owed him. Big. This was the second mess he had been asked to clean up for that bastard, and he was still waiting for the payback from the first one. Logan would get his payback though, one way or another. He always did.

He breathed in again, drawing the air deep into his lungs. Pain shot through his chest and he groaned. That was the last time he picked a fight with the Hulk, no matter who was asking. Yeah, it was a thrill to be able to let go like that, but there was also something to be said for restraint.

He pushed the thoughts aside, clearing his mind and focusing on the room around him. It was then that he realized that Regina was the only one here. Hadn't she brought Hank with her, or even Alex? Jean maybe? He sniffed again. Nope, just her.

"Where are the others?" His voice was low and rough from lack of moisture.

She turned towards him, blonde hair framing her face. The look on that face told him that until that moment she hadn't known he was awake. His eyes met hers, watching as she studied him. He saw fatigue in her face and eyes, as well as a bit of relief. She stared back for a short time, then breathed a sigh and got to her feet.

"Probably at the Mansion." She said with a shrug.

He watched her move around him and grab a cushion off the couch, then come back and kneel above his head. Gently she reached down and slipped her hands under him, lifting him up a little and then sliding the cushion under his head and shoulders. He was not surprised by the chill that her hands held, but he had not expected the gentleness. Still, it did not seem to matter to his chest. Pain shot through him again, and he groaned as she settled him back down.

When the pain passed he looked up to find that she had walked back around to where she had been before. She now knelt on the floor, offering him an open bottle of water. He accepted it, suddenly realizing why she had put the cushion under his head and shoulders. It made it easier to drink from the bottle, which he did eagerly. He made sure not to drink too much, but the cool moisture made him feel better.

"When will they be here?"

"Not sure." She shrugged, and turned back to the fire. "There's a huge storm outside. Been snowing for two days straight. Not even Ororo can control one this big. We're going to have to wait it out. Once it breaks they'll come for us."

"And until then?"

"Until then it's just me and you. Don't worry, I'll stay out of your way. Just don't expect me to sleep alone. It's far too cold for that."

He watched her, noting that she didn't seem like her usual cheerful self. He was used to her always being happy, or at least appearing to be. To see her with no sign of a smile was a bit strange. He wondered if it was because she was stuck here with him or if there was something else, and if he should really care.

"Agreed."

When she didn't react he knew something wasn't right. From the signals he had seen from her in the past he expected to see her give some outward sign that she was excited about the idea. Not even her scent showed any change in her emotions. It was still that woodsy, rosy scent that he had come to expect from her. That was, of course, when he could smell her.

"Why you?" He asked, sipping from the water bottle again.

She stiffened and her scent changed a little, taking on that tang that he would expect from one that was lying. It was this change that made him realize that he could actually smell her, that the scent in the cabin was not just residual. Usually she kept her scent hidden from him, as if she were afraid of what he would smell in it.

"I drew the short straw." She said, giving a slight shrug.

He noticed the shimmer of the fabric in her shirt when she shrugged, how it seemed to flutter down the length of the fabric and then back up again. His mind seized on that movement, focusing on the shimmer of the fabric and how it seemed to move. The shimmer moved from shoulder to shoulder, up and down her back, and then seemed to stop in the middle of her back. It danced there for a while, shifting from one vibrant color to another and then shooting out to all edges of the fabric. His mind was so captivated by the shimmer that he didn't even realize she had moved again until he felt her hand on his cheek.

"Logan." Her voice was soft, worried.

He pulled his gaze from the fabric, looking up to meet her green eyes. They were dimmer than he remembered, but then everything seemed dimmer after watching the shimmer. He glanced back down at her shirt, wondering if maybe it had stolen the color from her eyes. What he found was a simple grey sweat shirt. No shimmering fabric, no weird lights, and nothing that could explain what he had just seen. He looked back up at her, slightly confused.

She leaned over him, reaching for something. When she sat back again she was holding a small flashlight. She took hold of his chin and raised it until he met her eyes again. She passed the light through his field of vision a couple of times, then breathed a sigh and turned it off.

"You spaced out there for a second. Did you hear anything that I said?"

"Something about straws." He answered.

She breathed another sigh, her hand slipping from his chin down to the top of the blankets. She pushed them down, leaning forward to look over his chest. Memories flashed in his head, reminders of what he had to do to stay alive. Slowly he lay his head back, releasing a sigh of his own and closing his eyes. Her hand glided softly over his skin, fingers pressing in certain areas every now and then as she inspected his wounds.

"I'll heal." He said, flinching when she hit a particularly sensitive wound.

"That's never been an issue." Her breath was warm on his skin. "The issue is how long it will take. It's already taken far longer than ever before. If Beast were here he would be having a field day speculating about your physiology by now."

Her last words held a smile, but he could tell just from the sound of her voice that it didn't reach her eyes. Still, he couldn't help but smile at her comment. She was right. While Hank was his friend, he was also a scientist and Logan was pretty sure that he wouldn't have been able to resist this opportunity.

"Good thing he aint here then, huh."

"Yeah." He felt her pull the covers back up over his chest. "Although I wasn't thinking that two days ago."

He looked up at her, but she had already turned away so he didn't get to see the emotions in her eyes. He had learned that she couldn't hide her emotions from her eyes, but it seemed that she knew that as well. She had gotten very good at avoiding eye contact when she wanted to. Apparently this was one of those times.

"Regina." His voice was low, curious, but not exactly suspicious. "Why are you here?"

She ignored his question, turning her back to him as she retrieved something from near the fire. She pushed her hair back from her face, using her fingers to secure it behind her ear. It was a nervous habit that she had, one that he recognized. Although, this particular habit usually only came out when someone mentioned Sabretooth. So why now, why here?

Again he sniffed the air, searching for any familiar scent that he had missed. It occurred to him that if she was here to do him harm it would have been easier for her to do so during the two days that he had been unconscious. He was still alive though, and she was still here. She could have just as easily left him out here to die.

She moved again, pulling his attention back to her. He watched as she moved forward, handing him a camping cup. He took the cup, the scent of warm chicken soup filling his nose. As she released her grip on the cup he reached out and grabbed hold of her upper arm. She looked up at him, her scent taking on the familiar ting of fear. They both knew that he couldn't hurt her unless she let him, but even with that knowledge her eyes held a 'deer-in-the-headlights' look. There was something that she didn't want him to know, and he wanted to know what it was.

He pulled her closer, his blue eyes boring into her green ones. He was relieved to see that they were once again the brilliant green he had come to expect. That meant that whatever had happened earlier had passed. He'd never been in this situation before, been so week or seemingly helpless. His mind had played tricks on him before, but that was usually with a little bit of human help. This time there was no one pulling the strings or feeding the information. That idea scared him, more than he would ever admit.

"Why did you come?"

"I told you…short straw."

She turned away as she spoke, pulling her eyes from his and looking anywhere but at him. He glanced away from her long enough to set the cup down next to him, and then turned back to her. With his now free hand he did what she had done earlier, reaching out to take hold of her chin and turn her head so that she had to meet his eyes.

"We don't draw straws." He said with a slight smirk. "And we don't send out one person rescue teams."

She took a breath, and a warm smile slid across her face. That was the smile he was used to seeing on her, the one that lit her eyes but also made one wonder what exactly she was thinking. He often wondered what really made her smile, but that was one of those questions he would never ask.

"Does it really matter why I came?" She asked, her voice just as soft and warm as her breath. "I'm here." She shrugged, reaching up with her left hand and slipping her thumb under the palm that held her upper arm. Her fingers wrapped around his hand as she gently pulled it from her arm. "The others will be here when they can. That's all that matters."

Her fingers held his hand for a short time after she had removed it from her arm. When she released his hand, she gave him another warm smile and then moved back over to where she had been by the fire. He watched as she added some firewood, then retrieved another can of soup from her bag and placed it by the fire as well. That was her way of saying that the conversation was over, and he would not get the answer he wanted.

Logan shook his head, then reached over and retrieved his cup of soup. She had made a point though. At that moment all that really mattered was that someone had come.

**

Visions swam through his head, pictures of events long past and beyond his control. Still, he fought them. Slashing and stabbing at the nightmares that floated through his head. He couldn't beat them, he knew that, but still he fought against them. It was his nature, the way that he was. Always fighting, never giving in. Surrender was always an option, just not one that he considered, not even in his dreams.

He knew this was a dream, it had to be. The last thing he remembered before this was Regina and how surprised he had been that she knew how to hunt. She had brought him dinner, several small rabbits that she had found in the snow. They had eaten, talked a little, then turned in for the night. Yet, even though his mind knew that what he was experiencing now was a dream, he couldn't shake it.

His body jerked, and suddenly he felt himself wake. He wasn't on his back like he remembered. He was on his hands and knees. He opened his eyes, taking in the world around him and realizing that he was still in the cabin. Embers in the fireplace glowed red, and a gentle light shone in through the single living room window.

His eyes roamed the walls, making sure that this truly was the cabin and not some strange hallucination. Slowly his eyes worked their way down to the floor and down to what lay beneath him. When the spray of blonde hair came into focus his gut wrenched, fear twisting in his stomach. His claws were out, and he had sunken them all the way to his knuckles into the wooden floor. From the way that the hair lay beneath him he knew that he was above her, and that his fists pressed to the floor on either side of her head.

He squeezed his eyes closed, his breathing quickened as he tried to make himself look. Had he hurt her? Was she dead? He needed to look, to see, but he didn't dare. What if he had? How would he explain that to the others? How would he live with himself?

"Logan."

Her voice slipped into the darkness and Logan slowly opened his eyes. Those brilliant green eyes stared back at him, full of intelligence and life. The knot in his stomach untwisted a little as his blue eyes studied hers. He looked for any sign of pain, or fear. If he had hurt her they would be there, but he found neither. Instead he found relief. She was relieved, but was it because he was awake? He couldn't tell.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, retracting his claws and looking away.

Once they had been sheathed he began to move, shifting his weight so that he could stand. As he did, her fingers pressed into his ribs, soft but firm. He found her eyes again, his body stilling under her touch.

"Don't." She said softly.

His body settled back to where it had been, knees and hands once again meeting the wooden floor. This time his palms flattened on the wood though, covering the three holes his claws had made in the floor on either side of her head.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked.

She didn't reply at first, simply staring up into his eyes for the longest time. He felt her right hand move, releasing his side. Several moments later he felt it touch his cheek, moving gently across the stubble there and up into his hair. Not for the first time, he was surprised by her gentleness, especially after what had just happened. Most would be scared to death, but she wasn't. She seemed completely calm, completely comfortable with the current situation.

He let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, his head tilting slightly into her touch. Her nails gently grazed his scalp, her fingers toying with the strands of his hair. She ran those fingers through his mess of black, then pulled them down and started all over again.

"You and I both know that you can't hurt me unless I let you." She whispered.

When she pulled her hand free of his hair again, he reached up with his left hand and grabbed her wrist. He allowed her palm to rest on his cheek for a moment before he pulled it away, his fingers moving against the skin of her wrist. He watched her reaction, the fire that sprung to life in her eyes and the complete calm that her features still held.

He watched her as he slowly released the claws on his left hand, bringing them through the skin inch by inch. He watched the fire in her eyes deepen, intensify, and then darken. She never looked away from him, never adjusted her gaze. Not even when he brought his claws down to her throat.

"Would you?" He asked, his voice suddenly deep and husky.

He held her gaze, waiting for the fear that everyone had when faced with those claws. Even Alex was afraid of them. He tried not to show it, but Logan could see the fear in his eyes when the claws came out. Everyone feared his claws, even him, or at least he thought so. There was no fear in Regina's eyes, nothing that indicated that she was afraid of him. Not even when she lifted her chin, her eyes closing as his claws met her skin.

Her scent suddenly filled his nose, floating through the room and renewing the small remnants that had been there before. It was then that he realized she had her shields up and was only now taking them down.

He released her right hand, and she allowed it to fall gently to her side. His hand fisted, and he retrieved two of the claws. With only one left, he twisted his wrist, running the back of the claw down her neck. She breathed out, a slight moan escaping her throat along with the sigh of breath. His eyes followed the trail of the claw, bringing it to a stop at her breast bone. His wrist twisted again, bringing the point of the claw to rest directly above her heart. It pressed into the skin, and a small pool of blood began to form around the tip.

The beast within yanked on its chains, salivating at the idea of being able to harm her without resistance. The dream had woken it, but this excited it. Not like when he allowed it to fight. This was something different, something more sinister. He could feel it struggle, feel its lust for her blood. The idea of a true victim, one that wouldn't fight back…

In one swift motion he retrieved the claw and got to his feet. He moved over to the couch and picked up his jeans, slipping them on without a single word. It wasn't just the beast that was excited by the idea, and that scared him more than anything he could have imagined. He wasn't sure if it was the fact that she would let him that scared him, or the fact that he wanted to. Either way, he had come to the conclusion that she was dangerous.

He felt her hand on his arm, and a growl ripped from his throat. He whirled around, pushing her against the wall with a loud thud. His eyes met hers and his face twisted into a snarl.

"Why?" He growled.

She looked back at him, confusion clear in her eyes. There was no fear there, and he suddenly realized that of all the time he had met her eyes she had never been afraid of him. That scared him. Someone without fear, someone who would allow him to do what he had just done without so much as a whimper of pain. This could break him, ruin him.

"Because I trust you." She whispered.

His entire thought process suddenly stopped, like someone had just turned off the power. Trust. His mind found that word and then suddenly the thoughts were off again, but this time in a different direction. He had assumed that she knew what she had just done to him, that she had knowingly taunted him. Jean did it all the time. He knew because he would see the light in her eyes, the smirk that crossed her face when she knew she had riled him. There was nothing like that from Regina, just her confusion at his anger.

"What?" He asked, releasing her and taking a step back.

She breathed a sigh, then stepped past him and walked over to retrieve her own cloths. She spoke as she pulled them on, taking a moment to pull out a small rag and wipe away the blood that had trickled down her stomach.

"I trust you. I knew you wouldn't hurt me."

He watched her dress, somewhat surprised by her answer. He knew there was more to it though, he had smelled it in her scent. It had excited her, almost as much as it had excited him. The difference was that she didn't have his beast. She hadn't pursued it though. As soon as he had gotten up whatever was on her mind had stopped. He could still smell her, but the arousal had left her scent.

"Don't do it again." He said softly, pulling on the white tank top, followed shortly by a flannel shirt.

"I doubt I'll ever get the chance again." She looked up at him, a smirk on her face. "Unless you're inviting me into your bed."

Her eyes danced with humor, and he couldn't help but smile at her comment. It wasn't like he hadn't considered it. He loved women, much like the Cajun did, he just never spent as much time with them as Remy did. He took the time for them to please each other and then he left. It was safer that way, for both of them. Still, there were times that he wondered what it would be like to be able to hold a woman and not have to worry about hurting her while he fought his nightmares.

"I didn't think so." She said.

He looked up at her, realizing that he had been frowning. There was a distinct lack of surprise in her voice, telling him that while she flirted with him she never expected it to go further than that. And yet, beneath that lack of surprise there was other emotions. Disappointment? Humiliation? Shame? He should say something, tell her that wasn't what he meant, but even as the thoughts entered his mind he knew he never would. It wasn't his way.

He breathed a sigh, looking down at the floor as he tried to find his boots. It was at this point that he noticed her feet. They were bare, and the right one had a bandage where the pinky toe should be. There was a spot of red on the bandage, and the frown on his face deepened.

"What happened to your foot?" He asked, pointing down at her toe.

She glanced down, as if just noticing for the first time that the bandage was there. After a few seconds she shrugged and turned to retrieve something from the bag.

"Frost bite." She said with the same nonchalance she had used to tell him she had drawn the short straw.

He crossed the distance between them, gently turning her around and setting her on the couch. She gave a grunt of protest, but made no move to rise again. He squatted down and grabbed hold of her foot, lifting it and reaching out to remove the bandage.

"Its fine, Logan." She said, sounding indignant and put out.

He ignored her, gently pealing back the white bandage to reveal what he had expected. Her pinky toe was gone, cut off where it met the rest of the foot. There was a scorch mark over the stub, telling him the wound had been cauterized to prevent infection and bleeding.

"When did this happen?" He asked, concern slipping into his voice.

She frowned down at him, giving him the same 'I'm not telling' expression he would expect from Jubilee, or one of the other students. He countered with the stern 'you've got to be kidding me' look, which earned him a sigh from her.

"The day after I got here." She said finally. "Apparently I didn't wear heavy enough socks. The tip had turned black by the next morning, so I knew it had to go."

She said it like it was nothing, but Logan knew otherwise. It took a lot of nerve to be able to do something like this on your own. Most people would have simply let it go, hoping it would get better with time. The fact that she had actually done something about it surprised him.

He reached out and pressed his finger gently against the wound, checking the firmness of the skin beneath.

"Damned it Logan." She shrieked, yanking her foot back and pushing her fists into the cushion on which she sat. "I said its fine."

He didn't let go of her foot, holding it firmly but not enough to be painful. It still hurt, and the flesh was firm but not hard. That meant it would heal, and aside from loosing a toe she would be fine. He stared at her foot for a moment, feeling somewhat guilty for the fact that had it not been for her coming up here to find him she would still have her toe.

"It needs a new bandage." He said, finally releasing her foot.

He rummaged around in her pack for the first aid kit, and then set about changing the bandage. She let him, not giving anymore resistance or outbursts. When he was finished he gave a sigh, holding onto her foot for a few moments longer than he probably should have.

"There." He said when he finally released it.

He packed up the first aid kit and put it back in the pack, then handed her the pair of socks she had dropped when he had sat her down on the couch. She accepted them, giving him a shy smile.

"Thank you." She whispered, leaning forward and slipping her socks on.

He got to his feet, retrieving his boots and slipping them on. They finished dressing in silence, each one lost in their own thoughts. He was shocked at what he had just learned about her, and a bit puzzled. She seemed so superficial, like she was putting on a façade for everyone. He was sure that this was the first time that she had showed anyone her true self. She worked so hard to seem unapproachable, even distant. It made it so that no one got too close. Of course, he did the same thing, but at least he had let some people in.

"Ready?"

Her voice broke into his thoughts, and for a moment he wondered what she was talking about. Then the memory of a conversation the night before came back to him. The storm had finally broke, and the others were coming for them today.

"Yeah." He said with a nod, taking the parka that she offered him.

"We have about twenty minutes until the others get here. That should give us enough time to make it to the clearing."

He breathed a sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. They were going home, both of them, in one piece. That was more than he had expected a week ago.

"Let's go."

~End~


End file.
